


Hope for Another Chance

by williaminnit



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Found Family, Light Angst, Philza Needs a Hug, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), technoblade needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williaminnit/pseuds/williaminnit
Summary: When Philza was eighteen, he found a baby in the Nether.When Philza was eighteen, he had to give the baby up.When Philza was twenty-eight, he gave up hope. The child was gone.When Philza was thirty-two, he heard the name Technoblade for the first time.When Philza was thirty-four, he met Technoblade for what he thought was the first time.---some Philza-centric light angst and some sort of found family stuff if you squint
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	Hope for Another Chance

**Author's Note:**

> It's not major character death because techno isn't dead, but Philza thinks he is. anyways i speedwrote this because i was feeling things again. projecting my parental issues onto philza and his kids yuhhh

Philza was thirty-four when he met Technoblade the second time. The pair were both adventurers in their own right, Philza braving new terrains, settling in villages and nations, building monuments and worship centers before passing on again to the next place. Technoblade was a much different type of adventurer, he made his name out not in creation but destruction. The Blood God. The Blade.

When Phil first met Technoblade, he was barely eighteen.

God, he was so small. A tiny piglin baby, maybe not fully piglin, Phil couldn’t tell. It was only his second time roaming in the nether, his parents had not wanted him to wander far from their home. But he was eighteen, a full grown man in his own right.

The baby in his arms, abandoned in the empty fields of asphodel, the soulsand deserts that dotted across the nether. The most alarming thing about the child wasn’t his pink tufts of hair, nor his pointed ears and upturned nose, but the baby was cold. Piglins didn’t like the cold. And the baby was pale and freezing.

Without thinking, Philza took the child with him into the overworld.

Without thinking, Philza pulled the bundle towards him, warming the baby with his own body heat.

Without thinking, Philza took the baby home.

His mother was less than happy about his decision. She was the one who told him to “Get rid of the child.”

Thinking very hard, Philza took the child outside his hometown.

Thinking very hard, Phiza dropped off the child at an orphanage.

Thinking very hard, Philza wrote out a long note for the kid. Explaining his origin, where he was found, and how to contact Phil if the child ever needed him.

After ten years of silence, Philza assumed the child hadn’t made it. He assumed that the kid had been killed or had died, or had simply disappeared. The world wasn’t too kind to hybrids, the wings Philza hid behind heavy cloaks and armor were evidence of that.

Quietly, Philza mourned the child. He hadn’t even gotten a name.

Four years after that, Phil began hearing tales of a young and upcoming warrior. One with piglin features who had shown up out of the blue. He didn’t dare hope.

The baby he had saved would have only been fourteen. And fourteen was much too young for the stories that had been told about the warrior. The people whispered that he was called Technoblade. A name fit for a killer they said. They said he was amazing. Others claimed he was terrifying. A warrior from hell.

Philza’s interest was peaked to say the least.

So he asked around. Quietly and discreetly, he asked the people he met on his travels if they had heard of Technoblade. Most adventurers had, however, not many had met him. Apparently, Technoblade was borderline insane. Apparently, Technoblade only worked alone.

Slowly but surely, Philza gathered more intel on the piglin hybrid. The man was said to be 6’2” and was said to wear royal clothes. He never stayed in one place for more than three nights, and he always travelled by himself. Technoblade was never seen in colder biomes. He was rumored to have pink hair.

Philza didn’t allow himself to hope.

A year of research went by. And Philza began to hope. A small small sprout of hope. He knew it couldn't be true. The baby he had brought into the overworld would have been only fifteen. Technoblade had years of fighting experience. 

“The baby would be too young. The baby is dead.” A mantra repeated in his head over and over again. He didn’t want to hope. He didn’t want to be disappointed.

\---

“I heard you were looking for me.”

Philza was thirty-four and tired. He had spent the last sixteen years of his life questioning his decision to leave the baby at the orphanage. Sixteen years not letting himself hope.

He met the eyes of the warrior. “I’m afraid I was.”

Technoblade looked taken aback. It seemed like he was not used to people being honest with him. Maybe it was his scarred face, or the grimace that adorned it. Or maybe it was the netherite sword hanging loosely from his waist, or the matted blood in his hair. Maybe still it was his sunken eyes and broad shoulders.

But Philza wasn’t scared. He smiled a little more than a grimace, “Technoblade, right?” The taller man nodded once, gruffly. “Sit down, let me buy you a drink.”

Techno sat. He did not speak again. Simply looking over the man in front of him. At the weathered and wind-beaten, but kind face of the man in front of him.

Philza ordered two pints of beer, sipping his own deeply before turning his attention back on the man across from him. “My name is Philza. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Technoblade took a deep swig from his own drink, grimacing at the taste, “Most people have. Why were you looking for me?” Not really a question, more a demand for answers.

Philza’s answer seemed to startle him.

“What do you mean curiosity? Do you think I’m some sort of freak?” The man seemed hurt. More hurt than he should be, but Philza wasn’t one to judge.

“Nothing like that mate,” He took in a breath, taking another sip from his pint, “I used to know someone like you, a long long time ago. I heard about you and just had know. Piglin hybrids are rare.”

“So you’re some sort of collector? Of freaks like me?” Technoblade had put his drink down and rested a hand on his sword, ready to kill.

“Not at all. I’m a hybrid myself. I just needed to know for sure.”

A memory popped up in the back of Phil’s mind. The baby, red-faced and screaming, reaching out hands for Phil as he turned away. 

“How old are you, Techno?” The nickname slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. 

Technoblade lifted one eyebrow, “Why does it matter?” 

Defensive. Philza knew Techno would be, if he ever met him. “The person I used to know, he would be sixteen by now.”

Techno’s expression didn’t change. So much for hoping. Philza sighed. “I guess I always knew he was gone. But I couldn’t just stop thinking.”

The man nodded. 

\---

From that day, the duo set an uneasy alliance. There were questions unanswered. Where had Techno come from? Why did he hear voices? Why did Phil refuse to visit his hometown? Why did Phil feel the need to adopt and father every living thing he came across?

Techno knew all the answers. But he had questions too. Why had Philza, the same man to write him ten pages of notes and instructions and details on his origin, left him at that godforsaken orphanage in the first place? Why did Philza care? Was it regret for the child he had left behind, or did he know that Techno and the kid were one and the same?

Neither asked. And neither got answers.

But maybe it was better that way. To let go of the past. To lose hope.

And if Philza carried around a torn scrap of fabric from a baby blanket in his enderchest, that didn’t matter. And if Technoblade kept a little worn book of instructions and notes and details, then that didn’t matter either.


End file.
